Seventh time a charm
by Masakali
Summary: When Princess Mary Tudor is restored in the King's good graces, she gets a festival of suitors desiring her hand…or more. Six men miss the boat and one receives what was earlier destined for kings and dauphins only...


**_Why hello! Yes, another Tudor-fanfiction, but it feels like Pandora's Box has been opened since my first Tudor-ff. I am also working on two other Tudor-ff's, you might want to check those out. This is just an idea I got after watching Tudorscenes on Youtube. I have no idea if this has been done before, if so, tell me so I can avoid doing the same as someone else. Well...enjoy the read and please leave a review!_**

_When Princess Mary Tudor_,_ daughter of King Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon, is restored in the King's good graces, she gets a festival of suitors desiring her hand…or more. Six men miss the boat and one gets what was earlier destined for kings and dauphins only._

**Francis Bryan**

'My _lady_,' Francis Bryan greeted the former princess Mary Tudor, in a rather flirtatious voice. Mary turned around to the man who had earlier offended her when she refused to sign the oath. Though he was not handsome in any way to her, there was this rough demeanour some would claim to be attractive.

'My lord.'

Mary reluctantly greeted the man who had treated her so bad when she had only been the "King's Bastard". She resisted the urge to roll her eyes when she saw a glance she heard about too often. Mary knew Francis Bryan was a philanderer. She had seen the inviting looks on the faces of ladies, the unabashed glances at the cleavages of said ladies. The secret touches, suggestive whisperings…oh yes, though she did not know a lot about love and…the physical part, but she did know how men like _him_ worked their way to get what they want. And though enough ladies were unable to resist succumbing to his charms, _she_ was no ordinary lady. No, Mary was, whether legalized or not; The daughter of the King of England and Katherine of Aragon, who was the daughter of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabelle of Castille.

'I am glad you are back in the King's favour.'  
>'Thank you, milord.'<br>'Are you still upset with me? I was only following the orders of my Lord Sovereign, as you undoubtedly understand.'

Mary could not control herself now and looked away.

'I like to think you stopped giving my father's orders when you told me you would gladly smash my head against the wall had I been _your_ daughter?'

He laughed, attempting to melt her cold demeanour, but failed. Mary only held her head high, as she had often see her mother do, tightening her jaw.

'I was fed up by bothering myself with those who will not succumb, and thus forcing me to make inutile travels. A man can only endure so much, you know.'

'Is there anything you wished to tell me, milord? I wanted to talk to…' Mary searched a familiar face in the crowd and found one in Anne Seymour-Stanhope.

'The lady Seymour.'

Bryan laughed.

'Oh really? In that case, I would recommend you to talk to her now. _She_ is one of the best to talk to if you want to find out about what I want to tell. I am sure she can give you…_every_ detail of _everything _you would want to know.'

Mary closed her eyes, trying to not show her anger and disgust by this man, and opened them again when she thought she had designed a proper mask.

'I shall… keep that in mind. Now if you will excuse me…'

And without further ado, Mary walked away from the vicious man, leaving him with a growing appetite for her.

The rest of the evening had been spent relatively well by Mary. But for the glances of Bryan, she enjoyed the company she had been in. Her father appeared to be happy with his newest conquest, of whom she had not even bothered to know the name of. Elizabeth was all too happy with the affection their father showed her and had spent most of the night dancing and gazing at a boy of similar age, a boy she affectingly called 'Robbie'. It had been past twelve when she decided it was best to retire, and after bidding the king and her sister goodbye, she left to go to her room. Her ladies had gone to their chambers hours ago, with her permission, leaving Mary on her own.

'Sister!'

Mary turned around to a blushing Elizabeth, who seemed to be out of breath. Elizabeth's enthusiasm was contagious, and Mary found herself smiling at her sister's state.

'Bess! What-'  
>'Have you ever been in love?'<p>

Mary felt her cheeks reddening too, but now not out of excitement, but shame.

'No…no. Why?'  
>'I believe I am! With Robbie! And I know I should not harbour feelings for anyone without his Majesty's Consent, but Mary…'<p>

Elizabeth didn't finish, but she needn't too. Mary understood, with a vague dig of sadness and melancholy that she had never had that pleasure.

'So where is he now?'  
>'In the hall.'<p>

Mary smirked.

'And you are not with him, because?'  
>'I needed to tell someone! You, to be precise. I love you, Mary.'<p>

Elizabeth hugged her sister, and her Mary put her arms around Elizabeth too.

'You should be happy, Bess. Go and be happy.'

Mary kissed her sister's forehead, who left soon after. With a content smile Mary continued her way to her chambers, when she felt a rough grabbing on her arm.

'How dare-my lord Bryan! How dare you-'

Her words got cut off when Francis Bryan brushed his lips against hers, ignoring her fists hammering against his chest. His cheek was met by her hand when he broke the kiss off.

'How dare you! If I tell the King-'

Bryan pushed her against the wall again, making sure she felt a little pain. Then he brought his face closer to hers, not to kiss her again, but to warn her.

'Well…my _lady_, I can tell you already that that is a stupid idea. Do not even consider it. Besides, who will he believe? His most loyal subject, or an annoying _brat_ of a _bastard daughter?_ Your word against mine, _my lady bastard?_'

Mary's eyes grew big out of exasperation and she looked down, hoping to think of a solution to this growing problem before it was too late. Luckily for her, her saviour arrived in the form of her late aunt's widower.

'How about the word of the _Duke of Suffolk_, one of the King's oldest and closest friends? The uncle of the lady you are harassing?'

Francis Bryan quickly let go of Mary when he heard Charles Brandon's voice.

'Oh, Brandon, it is you. Well, I suppose you of all people know the delight of a royal…_experience_?'

Charles' fist hit Bryan before he could blink, making Mary gasp in surprise.

'I believe you will not make the same mistake, with neither me or the prince-lady Mary? The King _will_ hear of it the next time.'

And with that, Charles guided Mary to her chambers.

'Thank you, your Grace.'  
>'It was no effort at all, my lady. Just keep your ladies with you, next time.'<br>'Goodnight, your Grace.'  
>'Goodnight, my lady.'<p> 


End file.
